


Summer Heat

by durgasdragon



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-18
Updated: 2011-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/durgasdragon/pseuds/durgasdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cid’s on an errand in one of the worse heat waves ever and runs into Vincent</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Athame](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Athame).



  
**  
Summer Heat   
**   


_Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Squaresoft’s (Square Enix)_ Final Fantasy VII _and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece_

 _Summary: Cid’s on an errand in one of the worse heat waves ever and runs into Vincenct_

 _Author’s Note: Written for Athame. Possible out-of-characterness_

 _Constructive Criticism is always welcomed_

 _Published: 30 June 2008_

 _Rating: K+_

It was fuckin’ FRYING out. And he should know—he just cooked an egg on the wing of the _Tiny Bronco_. Goddamn it, why couldn’t he be stuck some place like Costa del Sol—somewhere with a beach and water and sexy people running around in wet, skimpy clothing?

No, instead of basking in the sun with a cold beer, Cid was trapped in North Corel in one of the worst heat waves in memory.

Fuck, _why_ had he agreed to do this again?

Next time Barret and Reeve wanted some dumb-ass speciality bolts, he was going to tell them to get it themselves and where they should _shove_ the damn thing!

He was also going to make them go to kindergarten with Marlene because everything was taking _twice_ as long because no-one could read the shit that Reeve and Barret called ‘handwriting’.

And to top it all off, the ice machine in the shithole they called a ‘motel’ was busted, the beer they had was so watered down it didn’t even have a proof rating, and there was no cold water in the shower. Honestly, _what_ fleabag piece of goddamn trash ran out of _cold_ water?!

Cid would lay money that this never happened at Costa del Sol or ANYWHERE ELSE!

He stared up at the bottom of the wing of the _Tiny Bronco_. Not only was his motel room a fuckin’ furnace, it smelled funny. Gods, how sad was it that he was lying in the dirt under his plane because it was more comfortable than anywhere else in this little struggling shadow of a town?

The whole damn thing had to be a plot against him or something; there could be no other explanation of why things were going so fuckin’ badly.

Someone walked by—what idiot was out and about today?—and slowed down considerably as they passed the plane. Cid decided he’d ignore them and shut his eyes. Gawking moron.

“ _Highwind_?”

Cid’s eyes flew open and he sat up slightly. “Vincent! What the fuck you doin’ here?”

Vincent—who, despite the oppressive heat, was still wrapped in too many layers—raised his eyebrow. “I could be asking you that same question.”

“Being the errand boy.” He flopped back down. “And roasting my butt off. You?”

“Restocking supplies.” Vincent slowly leaned on the wing and gave Cid an indecipherable look. “It’s forty-plus degrees in the shade and that says nothing for the humidity. Why are you outside?”

“Because this is coolest place in the whole fuckin’ shithole town. Ain’t you fryin’ under all that fabric?”

Vincent shifted his arm slightly and then suddenly was holding a green orb. “The ice materia—when junctioned with the added effect materia—can be manipulated to act as a personal air cooling system.” He snapped the globe back into his gauntlet. “It’s a gross misuse of materia, but sometimes I feel the need to put my personal needs above the ethical ones.”

Cid stared at Vincent for a moment, then—with energy he didn’t know he had—dove at the small cargo bay of the _Tiny Bronco_. “Why the hell didn’t _I_ think of that?!” He glanced over his shoulder, still digging though the pile of orbs. “Think I can get away with a Master materia ‘stead of an ice one?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Better not risk then…” Well, at least he didn’t have to dig out Venus Gospel then. “Ya want one? I think I might have an extra in this joint somewhere…Ha!” He grabbed an ice materia he never got around to selling and shoved it in his armlet, linking it to the blue one already there. Almost immediately, he could feel the coolness sliding up his arms. “ _Fuck_ yeah…”

Vincent watched him, looking mildly amused. “It does make a difference. And you don’t have to give me any of your master materia; those are too expensive to just give away.”

“Shit, you jus’ saved my ass from roastin’ off! That’s gotta count for _somethin’_!” Cid rubbed the cooled armlets over his face and neck blissfully. “ _Damn_ , Vincent! I could jus’ _kiss_ you!”

The gunman blinked. “Given the…options, I think I might just be convinced that the master materia is the better idea.”

“What, you don’t want me to kiss you?” Cid joked cheerfully, feeling better than he had in DAYS. Oh _gods_ , did this feel good! “If you have _real_ beer with you, I might jus’ have to have your babies.”

If Cid didn’t know better, he’d say that Vincent was blushing. “Well, then, I guess that I’m lucky one here because I don’t have any alcohol at all.”

“Damn.” Cid finally braved the world outside of the _Tiny Bronco_ ’s shadow. “How long you stayin’?”

“Not long. All I have to do is get some things and then I’m on my way again.” The dark man easily fell into step with him.

“Stay the night,” Cid offered. “I ain’t seen you in over a month. ‘Sides, I’m gettin’ sick of talkin’ to myself here.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think I’m going to spend the gil to get a room here.”

“Hell, you can have mine.” Cid lit a cigarette, finally cooled down enough he could appease the nicotine demon. “It’s a shithole and ain’t fancy at all, but it’s been paid for.”

“I couldn’t—”

“Yeah, you could. C’mon Vincent, take pity on me. I’ve been stuck here with nobody to talk to for two weeks ‘cuz Barret’s got some big idea to not only rebuild Midgar but this little hole as well. It’s been hot. Really fuckin’ hot. Plus, I haven’t seen a real beer or anything resembling whiskey for the last week and half.”

“My heart bleeds for you.”

Cid snorted. “Still a sarcastic bastard, and I miss that, ya know?”

Vincent rolled his eyes at him. “Fine, I’ll stay, but only if you don’t smoke in the room around me.”

“I get ugly when I can’t smoke.”

“You’re ugly all the time.”

“Ouch, Vincent! You wound me! That must be the jealousy speakin’ ‘cuz I know I’m the hottest man you’ll ever see!” Cid ground his heel into the ground to put out the stub. “I can manage for one night.”

“Good. I’m going to pick things up first; where should I meet you?”

“I’m room nineteen. Jus’ come on over and knock.”

“Fine.” Vincent didn’t wave as he slid over to the tiny shack that housed the store.

Whistling, Cid hurried back to his hole in the wall. He’d missed Vincent’s company; he was only one on their escapade to save the world that had been mature and not overrun with hormones. That aside, he had a wonderfully dry sense of humour and could hold his alcohol.

Vincent wrinkled his nose as he entered the room. “I ain’t been able to figure out where that smell’s been comin’ from.” The pilot apologised, tossing the dark man a warm bottle of water.

“Thank you.” Vincent neatly cut the top off with the tip of his claw and carefully sat in the rickety chair. “How have you been?”

“Same ol’crap, same ol’crap. I fly all over the place for Barret and Cloud and all them ‘cuz havin’ the _Bronco_ and the _Highwind_ means I wanna run all over the place for ‘em.” Cid took a long swig and longed for the burn of real alcohol before flopping down on the bed. “Still, beats sittin’ around one place all the time.”

“You’re only really happy when you’re flying and when you can be doing things…” Vincent smirked slightly. “I sure it irritates Shera a great deal.”

“It does.” Cid shrugged. “She gets frustrated when Wedge is gone for a long time.”

“Pardon?”

“I set her up with Wedge from the crew. He’s so smitten with her it’s like watching a puppy and she’s so flattered by the attention it’s gone to her head.”

Vincent didn’t exactly choke on his water, but it didn’t look like he swallowed completely right, either. “You’re…you set her up with someone else? What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Didn’t she have an interest in you? And weren’t you starting to return it?”

“Hell, no!” Cid shuddered slightly. “Neither one of us could have EVER made the other happy, and after I ‘splained that to her and hooked her up with Wedge, she understood that it was just a crush.”

“…Oh.” Vincent finally said, seeming to need some time to digest the information. Cid wondered how it came as such a surprise, but decided that it wasn’t something to waste his time worrying over. He let the cold armlet—now wet with condensation—rest on his neck and resisted the urge to moan in sheer pleasure.

“Vincent, you’re a _genius_ ,” he said instead, feeling the cold water drip down his shoulders. Truly, this was the best thing that had happened to him in _ages_.

“Apparently not as much as one as I could be,” the gunman muttered to himself. Cid raised his eyebrow slightly, but Vincent shook himself slightly. “So there aren’t any ladies in your life right now?”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that the _Highwind_ is _quite_ the lady and when I’m not keeping up with her, the _Bronco_ fills the rest of the time very nicely!”

A small smile—or so the pilot thought—flittered over Vincent’s face. “I apologise; I did not mean to smear the _Highwind_ or the _Bronco_ ’s good name.”

“Keep that in mind next time or I’ll tell them that you said that about ‘em.”

“I won’t want to be on the bad side of either of them. But to rephrase my earlier question, you have no human girlfriends or anything like that?”

“Nope,” Cid said cheerfully. “What about you? Find some nice girl to wander around with yet?”

“No, no I haven’t.” The look Vincent gave him was indecipherable, but deliberate. “I did get propositioned by Rufus a little while ago.”

“ _Rufus_?” The pilot stared for a moment. “Please tell me you’ve got better fuckin’ taste than _that_!”

“Find two men together repulsive, Highwind?”

“Only if one of ‘em is Rufus. Seriously, if you dig guys, you could do so much better than that sleazebag!” Cid waved an unlit cigarette around, ignoring the defensive edge in the gunman’s tone. “He’d probably give you crabs or somethin’ worse!”

Vincent actually laughed. “Probably very true. And no, I did not take him up on his…offer. I told him that I would shoot him the next time he brought up the subject.”

“ _Good_. If you hadn’t, I’d have to beat some fuckin’ sense into you.”

He laughed again, a low chuckle from behind his high collar. “Don’t worry. My tastes in men run much more…masculine and less seedy. Less polished, if you will.”

“You? You like ‘em rough around the edges?” An interesting contrast to his attraction to women like Lucrecia, but it made sense. If he got softness from women, he’d probably want something different from men. “I pegged you likin’ the refined type.”

The thin ebony eyebrow arched into the headband. “You speculated on my preferences?”

Cid shrugged. “I got bored sometimes on the mission during the huntin’ parts. I thought about all sorts of shit.”

“Really.” Vincent leaned forwards slightly. “And you thought if I liked guys, I would like them sophisticated?”

“Yeah, more or less. I never figured you to be the kind who liked them coarse and crude.”

“Not crude…more…earthy.” Vincent was watching him closely. “Men who aren’t girls, but who aren’t boorish, either. I like them to be have a slightly…unrefined edge, but still have a good heart.”

Cid didn’t consider himself to be the most intuitive guy on the planet, but he got the feeling that Vincent was gauging his reaction, like he had said something important and Cid was supposed to respond to whatever—

Oh.

Well.

Damn.

He carefully put his empty bottle down on the propped-up bedside table. “So…” he finally said, still feeling a bit shell-shocked. “Guys like me.”

“I think you might want to drop the plural and stick with the singular.”

“…Ah.” Cid chewed over the fact for a moment. To be honest, he’d never really let himself consider the dark man in that way because of Vincent’s clear devotion to Lucrecia. He wasn’t like Vincent; he wouldn’t let himself pine after what he could never have.

But in light of recent events…

He stood up and noticed that the gunman did the same as he walked over. Vinecent looked like he was bracing himself.

“Highwind, what the hell—!” Vincent nearly yelped and tripped on the old chair has he tried to duck when Cid yanked off his headband.

“I ain’t gonna get involved with some guy if I can’t see all of his face once in a while!” Headband out of the way, he went for the cloak.

Vincent froze for a moment, and that’s all Cid needed to not only get the cloak off but ahead start on the cravat. Then the black-haired man got a hold of himself and he pulled back. “I’m assuming that since you’re stripping me, you’re not entirely opposed to the idea of being with me.”

“I ain’t _done_ strippin’ you, so get back here!”

“It’s not fair that I have to take off all of my layers, but you’re allowed to keep yours on.”

Cid yanked his vest off and threw it in a corner. “Happy now?”

“Not really, you’ve taken more off of me.”

“I wear less shit than you do. When you’re shirtless, we’ll talk about more comin’ off.” Cid lunged.

Vincent made a very half-hearted attempt to get out of the way and the two tumbled back onto the bed. Cid went immediately went to work on getting rid of Vincent’s shirt, but was stopped when a clawed hand curved over the back of his skull.

“I think that I should get a kiss first,” Vincent sounded slightly breathless and _damn_ , that sent some nice shivers up Cid’s spine. “Before we start negotiating the removal of clothing.”

Cid smirked. “Well, since you asked real nice-like…”

As Vincent’s mouth opened eagerly and human hand greedily smoothed over his pectorals, Cid decided that it was for the best that he’d been sent to this god-forsaken spot on the map.

He wondered what else he could get the ice materia to do, now that he was going to be overheated all the time.

  
_x Fin x_   



End file.
